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Show THE KAMAS COURANT, KAMAS, UTAH ©) ACTING THE STI as cc TOT :$400 ce "5 as The Maric Life of Helen and Warren : By MABEL By HERBERT URNER Originator of “Their Married Life.” Author of “The Journal of a Neglected Wife,” “The Woman Alone,” etc. semen Y Senet “It means a cool three thousand! =, 3 PPro : nena ttnaae etter gee, SECate ee, ne Think I’ll turn that down?” Helen did not answer. With tremudous fingers she was tearing at the margin of the “Final Extra” with its flaring war headlines. “There’s no risk, I tell you,” persisted Warren. “London’s all right, and Till be back in less than a month. Now, for heaven’s sake, cut the hysteria. Business here is dead! I’m not making enough to pay the office rent. If ve got a chance like this—I’d be a chump not to take it.” Helen swallowed hard at the lump j f an her throat. “Jove, I'll have } to hustle to meet Griffin at 8:30,” glancing at his watch. “You'd better be getting my things ‘together. That small steamer trunk ain the storeroom?” She nodded. “Well, give me the storeroom key cand Vill have the elevator boy bring it up. Get me an umbrella, will you? Drizzling when I came in.” Helen got the key and the umbrella, and followed him to the door. As he took his hat from the hall rack he stooped to kiss her with a brisk: “Now, don’t be silly. You ought to ‘be deuced glad this offer came my way. Don’t sit up for me. Griffin’s going over the whole case tonight— os only chance we'll have.” And “Tm out i and -was bobbed still up dazed the from street. the “See here, we'll settle this right now! I’ve got enough to put up with without any new capers from you.” Helen rose from the trunk and turned to him with a fierce intensity. “Warren, I’m going! I’ve thought it all out. You’ve a stateroom alone— you can easily get another passé¢ge. But if you won’t do that—I shali go anyway. I’ve enough money of my own.” “Have you gone stark, staring mad?” bellowed Warren. “There’s no use roaring at me. This time it won’t help. I’m going on the St. Paul tomorrow—if I have to go ‘ment he had made at dinner with such brutal abruptness. Mr. Griffin had today offered him $3,000 if he would make a rush trip to London to look after some interest in @ stock company that had become in- . volved since the war. Helen had heard the : | | steerage. ment. : details only . -and all expenses to jump at. A deafening . Zaseod was ; ” ing of thoughts: crash, zig-. **ebtning- art tne - The curtains were soaked before her hands, weak ‘trembling, could put down the dows. with win- Then, with her nerves still a-quiver, she hurried to answer a startling ring. What could it be? No one would call ‘ | 30 late! It was the bellboy with the trunk. “Mr. Curtis said you wanted this up tonight.” “Oh, yes, just—just take itin there— in the bedroom.” With the lump tightening in her ‘throat, Helen looked down at the trunk, which bore the labels of their London trip two years ago. She had been going with him then. She thought of all the joyous preparation ‘for that trip! Now he was going alone—with all Wurope at war! What might not hap- wescn strana cca : le lb a eriapreelciaa lt 4 pen? mrramssadriaatsntion of possible dangers. consider the-money.@ F!ow com- no pomeation?” | ao Mechanically Helen unlocked the trunk. The tray was empty. Underneath were two steamer rugs, a shawl strap, a heavy trunk strap, Warren’s traveling cap and an air pillow. Slowly she took out the things and scooped up the scattered mothballs. | | | | For a long time she knelt there, the Yugs on her knee, fumbling with the balls she had thrown into the cap. ' Her breath came fast. clenched tight over the Her hand crunching balls. Then she started up, threw the things on the bed, rushed out to the 's “fall and rang peremptorily for the elevator. Not until the car shot up did she take her tense finger from the button. “There—there’s another steamer | trunk in the basement,” breathlessly, “that Mr. Curtis forgot. We're sailping tomorrow, so I must pack tonight. | Will you bring it up at once?” In a few moments the trunk was in her room. With a desperate, feverish aste she began to pack-——Warren’s fron first and then her own. There was no hesitancy or uncer- % 2: 5s teeta sasersasnnslat : | vi t tose \ cian tainty ae er on. It was swept away by usual a reso- a phase of her charac been aroused in rbrella. Then ym: the “Got twelve and she was tray the last few yet? Take at her -he as trunk he this, will dripping entered packed? his That’s ®. Put in plenty of underwear? h’t know when I'll get any washing she had this reckless knew no fear: i courage that She could have hurled from the mit “Warren never return, window without went alone he might in Oo ingly quiet; “that’s —_— all you have j nat to be enough. Phew, I’m ” peeling off his coat and vest.| Rout was When out in dawn before crash — the Then in front of these and at least two feet from them we will set out the pearl echillea, some of the columbines, the choice of which are cana- densis, chrysantha, moon penny daisies, this row No Poetry you think in early next the .old plants with the colic.” of same stalk, watcn for a Others will succeed it the winter if the that woke us up to and fuming and around to learn our unsophisticated ways. He’d stop me in the middle of the street to ask the meaning of some common expression he’d heard, which everybody uses, although them city folks don’t know them, in their ignorance. And after he’d spent three weeks at Cy Brown’s, taking up Jane Te@paz’s time—she’s his niece—and aggravating Jim Bowers until he talked of fighting him, Mr. Polhemus took his departure. “Next thing we heard about him, he’d written ‘Jane’s Honeymooners.’ Everybody was saying it was as good as Shakespeare. Cy Brown ain’t much of a hand at reading, but he said it was as plain as a he’d written, and daisies, from own seed to where it will poppies den heliotrope. A-double border two heights and we of plants, before winter. PERENNIAL wifi the nial plants, plants which sow the flower BED bed a joy forever.” The earth their own seed and of plants that are biennials, and we are going to buy or beg them all. Suppose we have a border from twenty to forty feet in length and from six to fifteen feet in depth. Or to fit our “estates,” our border can be made much larger or very much smaller. A border planted by a woman should not be over twenty by eight feet in size, for if she did all the work except the heavy digging, it might not be possible for her to give a larger one the right and necessary care. of fw perennial a beauty should be light and porous. try to raise flovers in soggy, and border Never wet soil. As soon as theplants are well rooted have a forkful of well-decayed stable manure spadedin well around each plant unless tley are very small plants, then use your own good judgment: Just before ffeezing weather a mulch two or tree inches deep of stable manure siould be spread over the hed «a little heavier about each plant, and if tte plants have any spooky branches they should trimmed back qtite close. all ASHES BUGS DISCOURAGE Especially value ammg in asters ashes, I be find containing as they do phosphate which tend toward sweetening the soil No parasite will find coirage to live in or enter such an unveasant soil home. Ashes are also bemficial in strengthening and stiffenilg stalks and for this reason I advoste them for gladiolus beds—but noi mixed with manure as some mightio—rather strewn over the surface soj after fertilizers have been well workd in. When thus treated they seem tc release the ammonia of the fertilize, relieving it of its most valuable pnperties. STOP Ifa lanky, RAPID plant (and Tt? ¢ GROWTH ig growing nearly too all’ want tall and to), nip off the tip of each branci. This checks growth, forces the stragth into the bark and wiii keep yor plant in a more compact form. | si} a ee ee a ee ear Be Oa aN oat SN NTRS Oe (72R8 Wanted to Know Where Worked. He Had he know ’em? Cy Brown raised Cain with Jane for the things she’d done in ‘the book. The hero was Mr. Polhemus, under another name. He was an author seeking local color, and in the end he married Jane, in spite of Jim Bowers, who. was the villain, only he’d given him a mustache. As for me and Cy Brown, we was just ignorant old country people. who used strange words, and I’d told him the meaning of ’em all myself. - “Jim was so mad when he heard about it that he got a copy, and when he’d read it he wouldn’t speak to Jane. It seems that the hero had used to kiss Jane behind the barn, and Jim thought Mr. Polhemus had done it. It took Jane the best part of a week to persuade Jim that she hadn’t kissed Mr. Polhemus, and as soon as she had convincec him that she hadn’t Jane started in and wanted to know why he’d robbed a bank in his youth and had to give her up to Mr. Polhemus so as he shouldn’t tell on him, and why he’d won her simple rus-’ tic heart when he’d ought to have been in the penitentiary. . “It got so bad that Hank Stevens, the policeman, called on Jim and want- ed to know where he had worked before he came to Pottsfield, and if it was true that there was a reward of five thousand dollars on his head. . “After that, when spring come, along come the busybodies and wanted to know which was the barn where the hero kissed Jane, and if the old ruined mill was the place where the villain went to his death amid the plunging cataracks. “And when summer came, who should arrive but Mr. Polhemus again. ~You’d think he wouldn’t have had the nerve to have looked us in the face, but he thought us simple rustic people hadn’t read ‘Jane’s Honeymooners,’ and didn’t know anything about it. miss, nobody get Mr. Polhemus let on he knew, Mr. Polhemus: “ ‘My roses is a-fading.’ “ ‘What's that?’ ented Mr. Polhemus, Evergreens From the Wooda, moment, and says Mr. Polheraus. it, ané .“4t I believe af do no harm. And my wife’s on her way up to Pottsfield, and between you and me I’d like to forget about that more than you would. Miss Topaz is so irresistible, you see,’ he adds, ‘that’s why I put her into the book, not meaning any harm. Come along, Mr. Bowers, and if you don’t drink I can introduce you to a good brand of ereers at Mr. Brown’s.’ “That’s how it ended, Miss, and Jane’s married to Jim now, but it would be best not to look for too much local color, in Pottsfield, because people is tired of it. And if there’s any words you want to know, ask me.” (Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.) HARD Subject TO DEFINE on Which Have Races Never Been to Agree. BEAUTY and Nations Able That which is beautiful is always pretty in the broad sense of the term, but much that the world in general counts as pretty is anything but beautiful to the esthetic eye. Prettiness is of the face and obvious, but beauty is of the soul and, therefore, more subtle. Some very crudely colored calendars will appeal to many as being beautiful, though to the cultured eye they are far from Suggestive of grace in either tone or form. There have been many attempts to define beauty, yet it cannot be said that any definition has thrown much light upon the subject. It manifests itself in such an infinite variety of forms, though there is a general agree: ment that its highest expression is in the fexaale form divine. Even here the diversity is so extensive that the peo: ples of no two races, let alone nations, have ever agreed upon the same type. The Madonna of the world’s artists. are striking instances of the different conceptions of the utmost spiritual grace. This much is certain; mere prettiness, whether in woman, painting, sculpture, music, poetry or literature, is either a primal or artificial harmony in nowise pleasing to those who have come to know the best. And much of that best is not so very difficult to appreciate. It is largely a matter of education and of habit. Some people perceive harmony with readiness in certain forms and are yet oblivious to it in others. There are color-blind musicians and stone-deaf sculptors. into the ruined mill Then come the day when Jane said to Get Good a all a joke, wasn’t riety and Jim was to come along and give him what was coming to him. “It was strange, the way we lived up to our reputations. Often I’d find myself in the middle of a speech to think up some word I hadn’t used, and Jane took to carrying her palls on a yoke, same as she’d done in the story book. | paralyzed “‘Tut!’ and meanwhile Jim and Cy Brown fixed up their plans. They was both feeling pretty sore about it, and they arranged that Jane was somehow to be stays was Well, an He in haying Pa¥fied'indu dnd so it don’t of our hardy ‘thing dark night, and she’d have been a bit scared, only Jim was holding her round the waist until they got near the mill, and then he let her go and crept in under the timbers, just beneath, where Mr. Polhemus was pacing to and fro, just aS he’d done in the book. Presently Jane comes up to him. “‘Ha! So you’ve come, says Mr. Polhemus. ““Yes,’ answers Jane in a hollow voice. “For once I give the slip to them that hates me and I’ve come to tell you the story of my life. I have been the tool of a man’s sinister designs, but luckily I’ve shook him off the track, and now—’ “*And now you're going to be mine,’ says Mr. Polhemus, and puts his arms round her; and before she knew what he was doing Mr. Pokhemus had kissed her. “Jane started to raise a rumpus, with Jim under the timbers, as you can suppose, but Jim was paralyzed. You see, Jane had assured him that nothing like that had happened, and there it had happened under his nose. * “We was, but you weren’é in on it,’ gar- double “At the appointed hour Jane dressed up and set out for the mill. It was a answered Jim. ‘Anyway, I saw it, so it’s all over, Jane. You may as-well understand that.’ the tall- hardy answered Janu ‘“opaz, rather obsti: nate, like the girl in the book, Jans Merriwether. ‘And can’t you guess what’s took them away and what it is that makes my heart go pit-a-pat when we meet?” ““No, answered Mr. Polhemus, scratching his head. Jane noticed that he looked kind of thoughtful. ““Then meet me in the ruined mill at eight o’clock, where I shall be safe from them that’s persecuting me, and I’ll tell you the secret of my life,’ says Jane. “All right,’ answered Mr. Polhemus, perking up a bit. then he springs up and tries to land one on Mr. Polhemus’ nose. Mr. Polhemus ducks and down goes Jim into the millrace. “He let out a yell that would have pikestaff, the things | raised the dead, and just as he’s comhow in thunder did ing up for the third time Mr. Polhemus strips off his coat and plunges |in after him. He grabbed Jim by the hair, and Jim, with more water in his system than he’d ever put there of his own will, was haufed out on the bank. “Pretty soon he come to. ‘I saw saw you kiss her,’ he eried, pointing to Jane Topaz, who was standing by like a woman in a dream. **Yes. What of it?’ asks Mr. Polhemus, none too dry. ‘Weren't we rehearsing the novel?’ not make setting slips all will help to make great FLOWER bells, the * alba, and single pinks, the polyanthus, the hardy primroses and the English cow- By JULIE ADAMS POWELL. Last month _we talked about the hardy bulbs. This month we are going to make a flower border of peren- up baby’s, Polhemus often need transplanting. Then we will have the hardy gaillardia, gysophila paniculata, or baby’s breath, lavender, Lychnis, rose campion, monarda didyma splendens, al: | is a lot of poetry in the mere mention voices of the night?” “Hardly, if the voice is the spring grew That. there Shasta year to year it will sow its and will come up so close “Oh, you have—you have,” as she clung to him. “J was desperate last night—but I csmidn’t have carried it through. But, 6A, to have you take me “Don’t Peter fox gloves sweet williams, coreopsis, lanceolata grandiflora and an almost double variety, called “the golden fleece.” Nicotina affinis can be planted in contentedly at him. The sound of his words was still in the air, “If we sail at noon—” Then her mind cleared. “Warren!” She drew him down to the bed beside her. “You said ‘we.’ You mean—you are---” “Huh, from the way you ranted last night—I haven’t much choice.” : And, dodging Helen’s clinging arms, next moment Warren was whistling in his bath. chrysantha carulia hybrida, skinneri, and Californica hybrida. In the center of this row a hydrangea paniculata grandiflora would be very pretty, and to continue the row, hardy pompon chrysanthemums, the several blue varieties of larkspurs, ones. The snap dragon, the double anemone, the mullein pink, the sea pink, English daisies, the harebell, THE shot gazed PPS. treatment grow down— “See here, it’s almost seven.” Warren was standing by the bed in his bathrobe. “If we sail at noon—you can’t lie there all day.” Dazed, bewildered, Helen two leaves appear successive- Kill weeds on the lawn by either pulling or cutting off the plant below the crown. Don’t mow the lawn too closely during the heated term; but do not allow weeds to go to seed. Deep working, thorough pulveration, effective fertilization and a thorough raking and rolling down to a smooth level are all necessary to a smooth, level lawn. Get your lawn seeds of a reliable seedsman, and ask for the best and the freshest. Don’t use old seed left over from last year, but insist on having it fresh, and of a good mixture. The best time to seed a lawn is during the latter part of August or the early part of September. At that season, the heat is over and showers are almost sure to come, and the young grass will have several months of cool, moist weather in which to tortur- machine say, Uspraying | So £9. cafled the bes-elmen tower, ttthe| KEEPING UP THE LAWN ing thoughts grew confused. . . . A street in a foreign city crowded with a riotous mob. Was it London? Soldiers with glittering bayonets were shouting at something overhead—an aeroplane. The man leaning out of it was—Warren. The soldiers took aim—a NPN Canterbury the, faint Helen’s NP outlined is adhered to. Bottom heat, moisture, and all the sunshine possible are the best incentives to growth. ; through light from the street. There is nothing so intimidating, so fatal to self-confidence, as a sleepless night, and gradually Helen felt her courage weakening. Her plans so boldly conceived now seemed impassible. Yet for Warren to go alone—to take the risks she felt he would take if she were not with him! She turned and threw her arms about him with a protective tenderness, softly kissing his hair and neck and shoulder until he stirred uneasily in his sleep. It was by NA NL Nel Such a border should run north and south, and if possible, face the east. The background may be of hollyhocks, both single and double, golden-glow, the single tiger lily, the ever blooming flame flower, the tall meadow-rue, and tall meadow-sweet, set out alternately. er ones a little back of the very low packed, still in a glowering silence he it fluttered red spider PAA “hardy 1 perennial ly from the bud next. took his bath and threw himself heav- | ily into bed. When Helen crept in beside him, she pressed a wistful, caressing cheek against his shoulder as he lay with his back toward her. But he shook her off with a savage: “Let me alone, will you?” With a sigh she turned away. For hours she lay watching the white cur- as the goapstids. With a muttered oath Warren strode into the library and began sorting over some papers he was to take with him. He did not speak or even glanca toward Helen again. The papers tain you WU, a he might some way become involved in the war—it this thought that impelled her. a, put in five suits,” her voice mis- a pair of bricks for this pur- Give liquid manure once or twice a week, gradually increasing the dose as the plant seems to thrive. ever she might feel tomorrow, tonight about as cheap to take you as to be cabling back every hour. Now hustle— youll have to move fast!” her keeping Helen. - What- or. Hello, you up u?” thrusting in sunshine if the other essentials are supplied. If wanted for winter blooming it is best to let it rest in summer, turning the pot on its side, in some out of the way corner. Repot in September, filling in a layer of charcoal for Ateinaee and food. Over this put a layer of manure well rotted, and finish with a rich compost. Water sparingly until growth commences, and then the water can hardly be supplied too freely. Always use warm water. The roots will enjoy it quite hot, but this is death to the stem. Some place a ring of tin around the base of the stem, pressing it down an inch into the soil. With this protection the hot water can be freely used. Bottom heat may also be supplied by placing the pot on a hot brick. By laid a pleading ings when she heard his key in the ord ceransap nase she willingly!” The words ended in ecstatic sob. “Well, I’ve mulled it over. It’ll after owding a a was Her lute decisiveness. Her tense excite‘ment acted as a stimulant that urged siieramatis os in her movements. indecision eens Sean aaa Fis Her mind was filled with lurid pictures could he it had offer “yain came down in sheets. It was the «climax, as it were, to her own terrify. : i It was pales thunder atwoale an AN desperation, an emotional recklessness pose and alternating every 12 hours that may never be aroused. Tonight-| the buds can be forced more freely. Three thousand Sa NID NINI NI NI NDI NANA NINA NANA NA NP NA NI ND NA NA NI NP ND NP NA _ made to bloom in winter without much he had never seen. In the mildest and meekest woman there is always the possibility of a Warren had ta- ‘in less than a month. Easily Grown and Makes a Most Graceful Basket Deccration. Get the Hanging Baskets Ready. By BESSIE L. PUTNAM. Rich soil, moisture, warmth, and sunshine are the key notes to success | with the calla. It can—yes—must be ter ‘booed her fears. London was safe, perfectly safe, and he would be home x ta 7 : PPNI hand on his arm, “I’ve never felt about anything as I do about this. I’m des: perate—can’t you see that? I can en: dure anything but the thought of your ‘taking this trip alone.” Warren looked at her in astonish- vaguely. “Sailing on the St. Paul to‘morrow noon,” was the part that had seared into her mind. Dear,’ color, I guess you can find it here all fussing Asparagus Sprengeri Is Plant for Veranda THE CALLA AND ITS CULTURE She- announce- all packed except a few things need in the morning.” “You’re packed! What in thunder— Are you crazy?” “No, dear, but I would be if I'd let you go on this trip alone,” wrap |, ping her hand mirror in an underskirt and putting it in the tray. e For a moment he stared at her, then turned away with a sneering: ‘Don’t be a-fool! Cut that stage acting and help pack my suit case.” “It’s already packed. Do you want | to take that gray sweater? I left it there on the chair,’ deftly fitting in her bedroom slippers. with a local MUNSON. that fact. “That was the Mr. Peter Polhemus who made such a stir with his book on New England folks last year. Sold a hundred thousand copies, they say, and must have made three or four huhdred dollars out of it, I reckon. Jane Topaz, who come here to milk the cows when I had rheumatics in my hands was the heroine, Mr. Polhemus himself was the hero—you could tell that the minute you set eyes on the book; and Jim Bowers, who’s now editing and printing the Pottsfield Gazette, was the rustic villain. “He was a nice man we thought then—Mr. Polhemus, I mean, always Til gazed down at the umbrella that came cap Mr. Syndicate.) As he threw them on a chair his glance fell on Helen’s packed trunk, which stood conspicuously by the open door of her room. “Why, what’s all this?” gazing at it with a puzzled frown. “What the devil—” cheerful “So long,’ Warren stepped into the elevator, From the front room window Helen isa cooommmnvsoommal HOO?E the AMeclure Noveneree Afor ncnamintay right. We’ve had lots of authors from New York in these parts, studying our peculiar ways and writing about the simple habits of us unsophisticated rustics. But we didn’t know it until Warren Decides to Go to London and Helen Determines to peromnpany Him (Copyright, 1915, by GEORGE polis miss? Ga i gal ng sort of puzzled. “‘My roses is fading in my cheeks,’ Dogs and Boys, One wonders what must have been the boyhood of the man who raves about the “necessity of excluding dogs | from human association.” A dog—it matters not its kind—is a necessary compiement to a real boy, and there is something more than priggishness the matter with the lad in knickerbockers who does not rejoice in the comradeship of Towser. The man who has had that treasure of affection and no longer regards it has lost more than his youth, |